That's Dedication!
by timydamonkey
Summary: Sort of drabble. When ghost fighting goes far afield, Danny is there. That's dedication, after all, but sometimes he wonders why he bothers. Everyone's an ingrate and the one left suffering is him…


That's Dedication! _(by timydamonkey)_

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Author's Note: FFN's upload system appears to be broken again. If you're wondering how I uploaded this, I exported a chapter then edited the contents. Annoying, but it works. Let's hope the formatting stays. 

I'm not really sure why I wrote this. I think it's just that I wanted to write about snow and then ship imagery started entering for no apparent reason. Uh, sorry about that. -grins sheepishly- Anyway, enjoy! Review, please.

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Disclaimer: I have never been in a snowstorm. I also do not own Danny Phantom.

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Everywhere is frozen. The wind is snapping at his heels, biting into his shoulders, fighting against his ability to take flight. He can't. His back is stiff from that whip of snow and ice. He winces. The snow, it's being flung around as if propelled by catapult and he is the target. Bullseye. 

"Sam! Tucker!" he calls into the Fenton earphones, but there is only static on the end. Sorry, captain – loss of communications. SOS! There's nobody to call.

He's trudging through the mountain of snow and each step he feels like he's sinking further. The weariness is setting in and he wants to sleep for a year. The ghost is long gone, and he's just vulnerable and drowsy. He can't even concentrate anymore. He is being frozen to death in death. The form flickers; he can't hold it up any more and then he's just a kid – a kid trapped in what seems like a minefield. Each step, you wait for the bomb. His next step, maybe it's his catastrophe. He falls, and there's not even a feeble attempt to get up. Wave the white flag, lieutenant. We'll fight no more.

The world is white, and sound is gone. Just rest your head for a moment…

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When he awakes, now _everything_ is stiff and he's trembling. He can't feel his limbs. 

He's going to drown in this snowdrift. The blankets are settling, and everything is numb now the ship has capsized. For a brief moment, he thinks about packing it all in. This superhero gig. Just getting up again. _Life_ – or as much as you can have a life when you're half-dead.

But he _is_ half-dead, and it's taught him to appreciate his life. He drags himself up. It's agony. He feels so brittle, as if his limbs could snap off at any moment. He wants to give up this pointless battle, but he knows he can't. You have to move onwards…

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He has fallen; his energy is all gone. 

"…D…a...nn…y!"

He's drifting off again. His hands are clenched so tightly on the snow that the cold is burning. He's sure his hands will be bright red.

"DANNY!"

There is barking. He can hear it all, now, but he daren't open his mouth to reply. He's worried the snow will rush in and he'll freeze from the inside out. His head feels odd… slow. Mushy, he calls it. It makes him want to laugh.

Something presses onto his back, and it's strangely warm. A rough tongue laps at his back and he shifts slightly in discomfort.

The dog growls, not liking his reaction, but before anything can happen, a voice yells, "Hey, Cujo! Took enough to get you outta the Ghost Zone to help find Danny, and I'm not paying for damages if you go on a rampage…"

"_Tucker!"_

"What? Come on, Sam, you know it's true… oh, hey!"

"Danny?!"

They drag him up. His head lolls, and he looks at them through an unfocused haze.

"…Hel_lo_…"

And Danny's laughing.

"Come on, dude, we gotta get outta here…"

"Especially as Tucker stole the Spectre Speeder…"

"Hey, I didn't steal it! I just… borrowed it for an emergency. Without wasting time by asking."

Danny can't stop giggling. Sometimes, he supposes, everything is worth it. He still has his friends, and _they_ appreciate the good he does, even if nobody else does. It's a nice feeling.

Cujo barks, his ghostly glow illuminating how pale and sickly Danny really looks. Sam and Tucker are exchanging worried glances.

But Danny knows that it's okay, because if anybody can get him home safe, it's his best friends. They're far more than he could have asked for. Knowing this, he smiles gently and finally – _finally­ – _feels safe enough sleep.


End file.
